


Simple

by Miycroni



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Is that a thing, Manipulation, Porn, Rape, cum kink, i am horrible, just straight porn, like seriously this is really just porn i wrote it for my friend, love you jonesy, no i will not, sans is a cute asshole, she's stressed she needs porn, tags added as needed, this is my first smut can you believe it well you better, you can leave comments n request stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 20:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8341873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miycroni/pseuds/Miycroni
Summary: A collection of porn just for you. You can request stuff in the comments!!





	1. Tease

You often used sticky notes to remind yourself of things, sticking them to the fridge with an obnoxious 'TO DO" at the top of it. Usually, they told you to do the laundry, or go to shopping with a bubbly cursive writing. It really was such a normal things to do for you that you really didn't think anything of it.

You'd gained the habit from your mother, anyways. She used to do it in a faithful, dependent way. As she got older she forgot more than she remembered.

  
"that's weird," said your boyfriend as you stuck another to the fridge door, "why do you do that?"

  
Sans found most of your human traits endearing and asked about quirks and health often. Others he thought were gross, like vomit. His view on bowel movements and periods was mostly humour. When you said you needed to use the bathroom, he always laughed. 'going to drop an opinion?' he would say time and time again, much to your annoyance. It could be worse. He could joke about your menstrual cycles.

  
"It's not weird." You replied, a little embarrassed. Was it really weird to him? "What, oh mighty one, do you have perfect memory?"

  
He blinks at you slowly. "...yes?"

  
You grin at him, amused. "That's good. I guess you remembered what I said on our first date, then?"

  
"that's cheating and you know it."

  
"I thought you had a perfect memory." You said, still smiling impishly.

  
You glanced at the clock, and after deciding for a moment, you wrote something else down on the sticky note. Sticking it to the refrigerator, you gave Sans a kiss on the cheekbone. "Bye babe! I'm off to work."

"o....kay," he stammered, blushing from your kiss.

  
"I love you!" you called on your way out the door. It shut behind you a few seconds later.

 

Hours later, you come home tired and bored. You pass the doorway and begin to kick your heels off when you're slammed against the wall, back first. A pair of teeth smashes into your lips after a few moments. Your bony boyfriend pulls away, but he begins hiking your skirt up as he talks low, under his breath.

  
"you think you're so coy, huh? leaving notes like that. think you're a regular jokester." he says, but you know there's no malice behind it.

  
Earlier, when you'd made the addition to the note, you'd written in large, capital letters, 'WHEN HOME, BONE SANS.'

  
And it apparently had the desired effect. Sans looked incredibly hot and bothered. Not to mention needy. He parts your thighs and rests a leg around his hip. The edge pressed into your calf muscle, but it's not uncomfortable. He doesn't look like he cares very much about your comfort right now as it is. That's only your fault, though, isn't it?

  
"can you even imagine how i felt when i saw that? just wanted t'see what made those things so important. i've been waiting here all day for you."

  
Your panties are shoved to the side, and fingers are plunged into your core suddenly, eliciting a groan from you. "S-sorry babe," you breathe, but it does nothing to calm him, and he just growls.

  
"you will be, when I'm finished." the fingers are removed from you, and you protest. "aw, don't be like that. you don't need to complain, i'll throw you a bone."

  
He snickers before his cock is inside your sex. You didn't even hear him undo his pants. You bite down on your lip, trying to keep in lewd noises. He rocks once and successfully draws a whimper from your throat.  
When he hilts, he huffs and buries his face in your neck. He licks the skin there, before grabbing the leg that doesn't sit on his hip. Once he looks situated he begins to thrust rapidly, and a chorus of moans tumbles from your open mouth. He's incredibly pleased, and his inhumane pace only serves to make both you and him even more aroused.

  
Ripples of pleasure run through your belly in waves. Sans' grip on your leg and hip is a comforting pressure. In an intense need to get off, you reach your hand down to rub at your clit, but he stops. You whine petulantly, but stop abruptly when he snarls.  
"who told you that you could touch yourself?" he says lowly, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust. You cry out sharply, and when you screw your eyes shut, you find yourself with a weight on your back, your hands above your head, and your knees pressed to your chest.

  
Sans is pounding your snatch, and he swallows your needy moans with his mouth. Chuckling darkly, he releases your lips. They're bruised and puffy from his forcefulness, but you don't mind much.  
"S-aahns!" You sob, and he groans under his breath.

  
"god, that's so fucking hot." He says, and his drive only becomes more fervent. "you're so hot, you know that. and you're mine. i love you so much, fuck!"

  
His voice is getting strained, and you know he's nearing completion. But you're just not there yet... until he reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit. He brings you over the edge speedily, and you wail your pleasure just as he releases in you.  
He retreats from your twitching cunt, rubbing around your lips to watch his come drip out of you. He coaxes his magic to spill out in globs, and you moan brokenly.

  
"You're an asshole." You huff.

  
"you're a tease." he replies.

  
"But you didn't say I couldn't touch myself!" You accuse.

  
"heat of the moment." he yawns, and he rolls over, bringing you with him to lay against his ribs.

  
"Sans, no, my clothes are gonna stain."

 

"wash em later."

  
You go to scold him but he's already asleep. You sigh, rubbing at his skull affectionately.

 

You're definitely going to keep using the sticky notes.


	2. Changed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was apparent that you were very, very angry. 
> 
> He's scared of you.

At first, you were really sweet, all smiles and laughter and warmth. His friends were charmed by you, he was charmed by you. You loved his puns. Loved him. You told him you'd always be there for him, protect him. He'd told you about the resets and about his fears. You had held him through nightmares and panic attacks.

 

He doesn't know what changed. He tried so hard. He tried to give you love and do everything you wanted, it wasn't enough, he wasn't enough. It was never enough. You tore him down, made him emotional. He was always in tears now when he wasn't around his brother or his friends. He believed you could change, his brother made him believe people could change. He believed in you. It wasn't enough.

 

He remembers when you met. You were in his Astrophysics class his senior college year after coming to the surface. You wore a dress and your headband was made of flowers of the same college. You were so smart, so intelligent, so admirable. He wanted to know you the moment you walked in the door. You answered every question that was placed on your shoulders. You wore bright smiles, all smooth lips, and white teeth. The light makeup you always wore made you look so beautiful, your cheeks glowed and your lashes left shadows on your skin under the fluorescent lights of the classroom. You were perfect.

 

You're still so bright and perfect but he doesn't know what he did wrong. It tears him apart every moment of his day, even when you're around and he has to pretend you're okay and he hates this.

 

 

But not you. He could never hate you.

 

His favourite memory was when he finally confessed his feelings to you. You had smiled so wide. You'd looked so happy, and his soul felt so light when you'd reciprocated his feelings. The both of you were standing outside a restaurant, after a dinner where you met his friends earlier that night. While you left the doors, you were giggly as he belted jokes after joke to you. Your laughter was music to his ears, he wanted to cause you to laugh more. Eventually, he realised that it was the perfect moment, and he stopped in his tracks. You walked a few more paces but noticed he was silent. You turned slowly, inquisitive. He parted his mouth, no words coming out. His mouth felt dry, his magic cold.

 

"Sans? What's wrong?" You'd said, worried. 

 

He'd told you, then. The surprise in your eyes was evident. You both weren't a couple, you were friends – Good friends, even. There were two heartbeats of pause, and the shock wore down to softness. He'd started trembling, and you'd moved closer. His brain flared in a warning then, alarm. Move away, it said, this isn't what you want, it urged. But he did, he did want it. He wanted you. But he didn't move, and he stayed there, stock still, although a little shaky. Your lips had parted just a wee bit, and they had glimmered so subtly in the dim lighting of the porch. You were so close he could smell your breath, sharp with spice and ginger, and warm on his face. You'd leaned down, and he knew you weren't scared. You'd known, he'd became aware of your body language, the silence that was between the two of you. You'd known he loved you, that he wanted you. 

You were going to kiss him, he realised. Your hand rested on the socket of his shoulder through his shirt - Papyrus had finally gotten him to wear different things while he was on the surface - and he'd swallowed thickly. But you'd already leaned back up, let your hand trace up his neck to rest on his cheek, and smiled.

"I guess we're just going to have to go on another date, then?" You giggled, and he could have sworn his eyes were hearts. 

 

But you've changed, now. It started so slowly, almost imperceptibly. First, you were just always around him. And that was okay because usually, his classes were around yours. But when you both graduated there was no reason for you to hang on his arm. He felt a little smothered. Once he asked if you had any of your own friends, and you had gotten angry. You told him, more than a little haughty, that you did, but they were all shallow. He suggested getting new friends, and that was the end of that conversation. But you only got increasingly clingier. You forced him to move in with you. He'd protested, naturally, but you'd tutted and said that Papyrus could handle himself. He resigned and you both got a flat. 

 

You made him hang out with his friends less and less. It was always either you wanted to stay home, or you wanted him to come to events with you. That was okay, he loved being with you, his friends could wait. When he did see his friends, you were always there, and acted so nicely, behaved so well and spoke to everyone with a smile. You acted like you were the perfect couple, that everyone should be like you. 

 

You wanted to look better than everyone. You had to look expensive, he had to look expensive. There wasn't a single detail in the home that looked like it was homely. It was all neat, cleaned up, not lived in. You had to be better than everyone else. 

 

You were so different at home than you were outside. Your grips were too tight, and your smiles forced, but you'd be loving, caressing him and cooing at him. And then at home, you'd yell and berate him for what he did wrong. Everything would have been okay if he didn't fuck up. 

 

You were right. He is the fuck up, and he's so lucky that you want him because no one else would. He's too lazy, too unmotivated. 

 

He wishes he was different so he could make you happy. 

 

"I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU, BROTHER." It was one of those days where he was so sad that he had to visit someone, without your permission. If he'd told you, you would have wanted to come with him. Sometimes he just wanted to see his bro and his friends. "YOU'RE NOT AS HAPPY. HOW ARE YOU AND THE HUMAN DOING?"

 

He winced, and tried to recover, but Papyrus was already concerned, and then that almost brought him to tears. 

 

"Ngaaah!!! If she's not good for you, you need to leave her!!" Undyne exclaimed angrily. Sans flicked his eyelights in alarm.

 

"n-no! she's not doing anything wrong, i love her, i just wish i was," he paused, searching for the right word, "better to her."

 

He didn't want them to know he couldn't leave you because you were his stability. That he'd be lost without you. He needed you, but you didn't need him. You were confident and you could certainly find so much more than him. Undyne's lone eye searched his, and Papyrus' socket narrowed, but they didn't seem to think he was lying. He sighed. 

 

"You...wish you were b-better?" Questioned Alphys, and Sans nodded. Gasping, Alphys rushed to make him feel better. "But! But! Sans, she seemssohappyaroundyouandyouguysarealwayscloseandshelooksatyousoadoringlyit'slikeyouguysaresoulmates!!" 

 

He then thinks no, I don't wish I was better.

 

I wish they knew the truth.

 

He stays there for a while longer, basking in the true, genuine love of his friends. He likes that they care about how he feels, they make him feel worth it. He feels important with his friends, not like a doll, who's supposed to be pliant, not opposed to anything. He doesn't feel like that with you. Your love is darker, heavier. It weighed on him and made him feel a little uncomfortable. He loves you, though, and he hopes that's enough.

 

When he gets home, you're standing there, right after he opens the door. His tired eyes look at you, and then shrink and dim considerably. It was apparent that you were very, very angry at him. 

 

And he was scared of you.

 

"Where have you been?!" You snapped. 

 

He didn't mean to make you angry, he just wanted to speak with his friends. He just wanted to feel okay again. You're mad, near fuming, and he wants to make it better, needs to make it better. He can't, though, so he closes his eyes and waits for you to continue yelling. To tell him how worthless he is. To tell him that he should try better. But instead you stay there, heavy breathing, and then you speak two words.

 

"Come here."

 

You sound calm, too calm, way too calm for him right now. He thinks that you're getting better because your face has changed, it's welcoming and nice. So he comes further. You caress his cheek. 

 

And then pin him to the couch. 

 

His breath is stolen away, and you're looking at him with that smile. He can't breathe, your mouth parts and your tongue dips out to lick his cervical vertebrae. He jolts, but your hands pin him down. You've never done this, sex was for the bedrooms only, and he's still so scared. And he doesn't want this, he quivers when you bite down hungrily on his collar bone. He feels you frown against him, and his breath that only just came back hitches. He pissed you off, again. But instead, you sniffle.

 

"S-sans, don't you want me? I tried to change for y-you, I wanted to be...different," you whisper against him, and he finds himself wanting to say yes, but before he can answer you're still speaking. "You're only supposed to spend time with me, don't you love me? I'm supposed to be with you. You...you...you just want to leave me, don't you? I'm sorry. I love you."

 

You're crying now, and he wants to make it better, but he can't. He can't move, can't speak, any words that he wanted to say are gone. You're making little gasping noises now, hyperventilating. He feels like shit. He forces his hand to come up from your loosened grip and pet your hair. Almost immediately, you grasp it and hold it there. 

 

"i-...i don't know what i want." He starts, truthfully. You look up at him with red, widened eyes. The back of his head says you're not really hurt, you're manipulating him, but he doesn't want to believe it. "i don't know what to do."

 

Your face goes through an array of different emotions, confusion, hurt, and some others he can't quite understand, before settling on one thing that has him wishing he had just lied. You're kissing him now, and he still just doesn't want this but he's kissing you back because he missed you. Missed your kisses and your soft, soft hair, your eyes that were just the beacon to everything in you, your prettyprettypretty eyes. You touch him all over, and he wishes so bad that his body wasn't so sensitive. He arches up into your touch, craving a release, something. Because if he could feel something, maybe he could pretend that you actually loved him. So he whimpers puffs out heavy breaths, and you look pleased.

Your hand brushes over his pelvis, and his phalanges grasp yours, and you look up at him, scolding.

"no." He says, clearly. Your face scrunches up into something that's indescribable. You huff in morbid amusement. Your hand twists out of his grasp and instead brushes over his cheek in a mockery of love.

"You could have just said so." You coo. "Do you want some dinner?"

He nods dumbly and you lead him by the hand to the table, and he smells something that he didn't before. Did you cook while he was gone? How long was he not here? You serve him up and give him a fork to eat with it. You sit across from him. You don't have any food, you're just watching him eat. He feels uncomfortable, with your hands tucked under your chin and elbows on the table.

Somethings wrong. You're going against every rule you've ever had today. He doesn't really know what to do. 

"you're not gonna eat?" He asks, and you smile.

"No," You say, "I ate before you came home."

He continues eating as the atmosphere around you becomes tense, and tenser. As he's halfway through the salad - that he honestly hates eating, vegetables are gross - he feels strange. You're still smiling. You haven't taken away any dishes. This isn't how you act. 

He doesn't know what to do. But when he doesn't know how to continue, he usually sleeps. 

Yeah, sleeping sounds good. He drifts off in the middle of chewing as your smile grows to the point of being a Cheshire grin. 

 

It's dark, and he can't move. His limbs feel heavy and sluggish, but even with his eyesockets open, he can't see a thing. A shift of fabric tells him he's blindfolded. He calls out your name tentatively.

"Oh, Sans, did you really think you had any choice in the matter of what you wanted? You belong to me, remember?" He hears you, and a brush of air passes him. He's naked, bare-boned. He lets out a hiccup and a few desperate gasps. You're going to kill him, he's gonna dust. He'll never see his family again. 

"You'll never leave me again."

Despite your heavy words, and your anger, your hands run over him soothingly, and he finds himself wanting to sleep again, despite the obvious problem at hand. Your fingers dance along his rib cage and curl around his spine, stroking, and petting. Then you pull away. But you've already laid hands on him and he's so needy, but you're gone. 

"no, no. don't leave me here, you've already done this i need you don't-" He cuts himself off, he doesn't want to depend on you.

He waits, and waits, vulnerable and conscious of his current situation.

He nearly screams when you tongue his sternum. Your fingers brush and rub at his pubis, encouraging him. He knows what you want. He's too tired to fight you.

He shudders and conjures a penis, and your hand grips it immediately, teasing the head with your thumb and coaxing precome to drip from the head. You use his own fluids as lubricate, and build up a rhythm.

Your tongue and other hand are still leisurely combing his most sensitive spots, and he keens his release, magic coating your hand. Your hand leaves him and he hears wet sounds. Did you just-?

"I'll come back tomorrow, dear. Have fun."

It's okay, he thinks. I'll be okay. She won't leave me forever.

And the cycle of waiting begins again. He waits until he falls into an uneasy sleep.

 

He dreams of the early days and when his life was filled with happiness and pure love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all, I posted this but I'm editing. THIS IS NOT A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP
> 
> I REPEAT.  
> IT IS NOT. OKAY
> 
> Also this has no correlation to last chapter xo


End file.
